Tag: Bristol Renaissance Faire

‘Twas my first season on cast as a Towne Crier – also, incidentally, the last season where the Fight Cast played the roles of Merry Men. I forget all the details of the staged encounter, but it involved Robin Hood getting caught on the bridge over Lake Elizabeth, forcing him into an outrageous getaway. It was pretty wild. There were Sirens involved.

Since I daresay most of you missed the instigating show at Bristol, and we’ve still got 2 weeks to kill before Outlaws 3’s release, how about we sneak a peek at that scene now? ^^ You can read it below! And/or watch me read it aloud in this video posted to the “Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale” Facebook page.

Neither option includes Sirens, alas, but you will be treated to merry banter and wonky math! Plus, the vid features my Disney Robin Hood shirt and, well, the kind of faces I make when performing characters. X) Enjoy!

“Sheriff!” a voice barked from the trees beyond the road, and out of their shadows stepped the archer. He pushed back the hood of green from his head, revealing his waves of brown hair, flashing blue eyes, and slim beard framing both strong jaw and mouth drawn into a hard line of anger. “Leave the innocents of Nottingham in peace. Your quarrel is not with them, but with me!”

“Oh, prithee do try,” a voice rumbled low – or high, in terms of altitude. Another man stepped from the trees, towering over the first, and with a stout staff at the ready in his colossal hands.

“What are you waiting for?” the Sheriff berated his men, when they only stood staring uneasily at the black-bearded giant. “Grow a spine among you, cowards! We are many, and they only two!”

“Huh,” said the dark woman just now stepping around the giant, a knife a-twirl in her fingers. “Seemeth to me someone’s count is off, somewhere. How many would you say we are, Robin?”

“Well, of course you and I are one heart joined, my lady Marion,” said Robin, with a warm smile for his wife. “But Little John is easily the equal of any two men, so the count thus far is no fewer than three.”

“And was is not but this morn at breakfast, cousin,” said a man garbed in lavish red, come forward to lean casually against his sword placed point-first in the ground, “that you likened me to a dozen good men?”

Will Scarlet laughed with abandon. “Best take both together, and count me as four-and-twenty!”

With lute on back and staff in hand, a youth in dark blues stepped out to join the party, a curvaceous girl with a half-drawn bow at his side. “The final count, then,” he lilted, “is nine and a score, for we are content to add a pair more.”

The girl with the bow arched an eyebrow. “Are we not one, Allyn-a-Dale?”

“Most assuredly are we, May Ellen,” he soothed. “But I deemed it high time someone tried their hand at a factual tally, and it appeared not as if that one,” – he rolled his eyes – “or four-and-twenty, would be Will.”

By now, the Sheriff’s men-at-arms, who numbered a factual four, were looking less at ease than ever. Seeing this, the Sheriff cleared his throat, and adopted a more levelheaded tone.

“Now, Robin,” said he, “I see no need for us to engage in full-scale battle. What profit is it to either of us to risk so many lives? Let us rather be judicious men, and curtail the shedding of blood.”

“Why, my good Sheriff,” said Robin, dryly. “I knew not that wanton bloodshed was so abhorrent to you. In faith, past action on your part has led me to believe just the opposite. But what solution would you put forth?”

“A contest of champions,” the Sheriff said. “My best swordsman, pitted against yours. Should your man win, I give my word that I will no longer trouble the townsfolk to reach you. Should my man win, your band must give itself up to the Law. Are we agreed?”

While the crowd shouted their opinions on the matter, Robin turned a questioning look on his band. “What say you, my Merry Men?” he asked. “All those in favor of accepting the Sheriff’s terms, say: ‘Hey for merry old England!’”

For the first time in a handful of years, the Bristol Renaissance Faire has a bookshop again. This excited me for two reasons.

1 – Bookshop! ‘Nough said!

2 – This presented a possibility that, just maybe, I could see my beautiful book baby, “The Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale”, sold in the Ren Faire that had inspired it.

Well, I spoke to the shopkeeper, and she seemed favorably impressed by my nerve in pitching the idea. But alas, the deal didn’t go through – which, as one might expect, did quite a number with my depression for several black-and-blue days.

However, a voice that sounded distinctly like my Robin Hood’s afterword spoke in my head, just because you can’t sell the book in Bristol yet, that doesn’t mean “Ballad” can’t visit its mother Faire.

And, as Robin Hood-esque voices often are, it was right.

Thus did my most recent trip to Bristol center around a photo project for my personal satisfaction – the best results of which I’m happy to share with you all. Come, readers! Let us away to the Faire!

Though Bristol’s not quite Avalon Faire, one has only to compare their maps to see they share a number of features in common. And speaking of maps…

…Here he is – the talent behind the Avalon Faire map, the Cartographer of the Cosmos himself – Jesse Kennedy! (A most EXCELLENT chap. If you ever get the chance to give him your business, then do!)

Of course my Robin Hood book had to stop by the archery games.

And what’s a trip to the Renaissance Faire without a lively joust?

Fun fact! I had this building, Tuscany Tavern, vaguely in mind when I wrote this bit of “Ballad”:

For on the steps leading up to a pub on a low rise of hill, there stood Robin Hood, and Little John, too. And perched on the rail above them, a notably smaller young man in deep, vivid blue, holding a lute.

And speaking of lutes…

…This sculpture, called The Jester, was of course only too delighted to welcome “Ballad” home.

Bristol’s Lake Elizabeth; the inspiration behind Avalon’s Lake Vivienne. Also the location of an extraordinary fight cast performance, my first year as a Towne Crier – one which further inspired a certain scene in Outlaws 3, “The Legend of Allyn-a-Dale”. (Coming this fall!)

More inspiration! This little nook nestled between shops is behind the following passage from Book 2, “The Marriage of Allyn-a-Dale”:

Will Scarlet cornered Allyn in one of the minstrel’s favored haunts. An unobtrusive courtyard tucked between two vendors’ buildings, it boasted a prettily carved stone bench by either wall, a trellis roof hung with ivy, and a floor of grass and wildflowers growing in the generous spaces between handcrafted ceramic tiles. Like everything to be seen, heard, and felt in the Faerie Glade, the nook was gently enchanting — made even more so whenever Allyn chose it as the backdrop for a tune upon his lute.

And speaking of the Faerie Glade…

…The Bristol equivalent is called the Fairie Glen, and boasts this charming display which I’m sure the world’s smallest Fey would find most inviting.

** The Creative Writing Club of Wisconsin Lutheran College, no less! Bless them, as well!

Also believe it or not, I didn’t actually take the time throughout the day to chronicle the hour-by-hour happenings in a notebook, like one might think a writer would naturally do. So the following journal entries are totally forged after the fact – though I’d like to think I managed to hold onto a ring of authenticity, even so.

* * *

Monday, Apr. 28, 2014, 10-ish a.m.

Camped out on the front steps so I can keep an eye on the street. I haven’t seen Megan since we were Town Criers together at the Bristol Renaissance Faire last summer, and I’ve never seen her car, but once I spot the former, I’ll assume that the latter she drove up in is hers. Or that she’s a car thief. That could prove interesting.

Whoop, I think that’s her! Farewell, Mother! Later, comforts of home! For today, I throw comfort to the wind and talk to strangers!

* * *

After the drive (and little thanks to the GPS that tried to lose us inside a forest preserve, of all things)

Chillin’ at WLC, home of the CWC with which I’ll Q&A. (Acronyms… acronyms everywhere…) While Megan’s taking care of last-minute business for the meeting – ordering refreshments, messaging club members to remind them where we will and will not meet – I’ve been tearing through this script she wrote. “aMUSEd”, it’s called, and just guess what inspired it? INSPIRED, that’s what! Or its cover, anyway! She took one look at the portrayal of Luc and Annabelle, and a little lightbulb full of ideas winked on over her own head.

She only finished the script the night before, so I was the first to read the whole thing! Such privilege!

The best part of all? This play rocks! It had me whimpering in sympathy on, like, page 2, and laughing for pretty much the rest of it. I love emotion couched in comedy. Boy, I hope Megan brings “aMUSEd” to the stage, sometime in the not-too-faraway future. I want in it! Or at least in the audience of it. I’ll take either one.

Aaand now we’re going back into the rain to grab some beverages from the grocery story. Back in a bit, hypothetical diary.

* * *

Later in the Afternoon

Just finished sitting in on Megan’s theatre class. Now we’re in the meeting room with a few earlycomers (sure, we’ll say that’s a word), and I’ll do a more participatory sort of sit-in with them doing their club thing, with my official Q&A portion of our assembly to follow after that. I’ve got no idea how any of this will go down, yet, so I’ll just dive face-first into social interaction and hope it comes off as more endearing than obnoxious. (I can never tell.)

* * *

Looks like we’re all mad here. Cue my Cheshire Cat grin.

Halfway Through the Meeting

Oh my word, these people are hilarious! They were supposed to all read some prompt-based writing exercise they were assigned, but nobody actually brought in the assignment (ah, college… it’s all coming back to me, now), so President Megan* decided to wing it.

* Nobody’s called her President Megan, but she’s running this show, so whatever, she’s totally President Megan.

She divided the room of sixteen into teams of four, each team writing four stories on the fly, one sentence at a time. I mean, obviously every story is written one sentence at a time, but in this case, Teammate A only gets to put down one sentence before passing the story on to Teammate B, who does the same before giving it to Teammate C, and on it goes to D and back around to A – blather, wince, and repeat, all the while doing the same for the stories begun by Teammates B, C, and D.

If that explanation didn’t make sense, consider it a metaphor for most of the stories we read once we’d finished the game. President Megan was kept busy at the white board, stating on record that much of the stories’ subject matter was in no way a reflection of the values of the Creative Writing Club or its affiliates.

The first disclaimer.…But far from the last.

* * *

Stories Read and Pizza Consumed…

…Up I went to the front of the room to act all professionally authorial and stuff.

After giving the crowd my backstory, I fielded questions about my creative/publishing process, how self-pub works vs. working with a small press, how to sniff out writing opportunities… all that jazz.

The many faces of Danielle E. Shipley attempting to verbally communicate.The one face of Danielle E. Shipley reading her bio aloud, providing an example of how to speak about oneself in the third person.

Not gonna lie, though: My favorite part had to be toward the end when one of the club members, not nicknamed The Voice for nothing, came up to read the back cover blurb of INSPIRED in the most epic announcer way possible. I mean, having the deeply gratifying pleasure of selling and autographing a few copies of the novel to the room before Megan drove me home was super great, too. But an epic announcer voice reading your words like they’re gonna be a movie next summer* is its own level of cool.

*It is not, to my knowledge, actually going to be a movie next summer. There’s still that script for a play inspired by it, though! Like I said: Creeping my way up in the world. (:

Once I got back home, things were pretty much business as usual, for a while – y’know, guests posts by a Merry Man and Merry Woman, rescuing words like a language-loving boss on Save-a-Word Saturdays… that sort of thing.

Then the world exploded in a blast of awesomesocks.

Because “awesomesauce” became obsolete the moment I saw these socks.

After years of little to report to inquisitive friends apart from, “yeah, still writing, still hoping, no big breaks yet,” I had not one, not two, but three amazing pieces of publishing news to share, back to back to back! An anthology, self-published novella, and a novel debut, oh my!

It all made for a very busy Danielle, lemme tell you, but I still tried to make time for reading, both for pleasure and as favors to friends. Over the course of Ever On Word’s “being or associated with the second in a series” year, I managed to post reviews for the following:

Not too shabby, for a gal with a weird phobia about writing reviews. (:

I was able to pick up a couple of nice reviews for “The Swan Prince”, too, during the Blogger Book Fair in July. I’d only recently heard of the event, and it was my first time participating – spotlighting fellow authors here at my blog, guest-posting over on theirs, and, ohhhh yeahhhh, winning the Reader’s Choice Award for young adult fantasy, thanks to your votes! 😀

So, yeah. All told, it’s been a pretty big year for this little blog. And glancing ahead at what I know to be coming – (including but not limited to the release of “The Stone Kingdom (Book Two of The Wilderhark Tales)” in, like, two weeks) – it’s a safe bet Year Three will be easily as huge. #LezDoThisThang!

I have discovered a life-changing thing, my friends: Setting a blog post to go live at whatever hour you choose whether or not you’re anywhere near the computer at the time! I mean, yeah, I’d heard of other bloggers doing this, but I assumed it was witchcraft (or technological savvy, which in some ways is just as far out of my reach), so I never tried to figure out how it’s done.

Until now.

Do you realize what this means?! Well, here’s a hint: This post has gone live on a Saturday morning. That’s right: Even while I’m off being Elizabethan at the Bristol Renaissance Faire, Ever On Word can participate in Save-a-Word Saturday!

What’s that? It’s been so long since my last Save-a-Word Saturday blog post that its significance escapes you? Allow me to bring you up to speed:

2) Pick an old word you want to save from extinction to feature in the post. (If you find yourself in want of options, Feather ‘n’ Rose recommended a site that may have some word-lovers drooling. Luciferous Logolepsy. Even its name is old and delicious!)

3) Provide a definition of your word, and use it in a sentence/short paragraph/mini story vaguely related to the particular week’s chosen theme.

4) Sign up properly on the host post’s linky list so participants can easily find each other and share their logophilistic joy.

5) Be a hero by sharing these retro words with the world!

I’ve been participating in the weekly fun via my “Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale”, giving myself the extra challenge/fun of relating every word I pick to my re-imagining of the Robin Hood legend (a.k.a. the magnum opus to be self-published after the completion of “The Wilderhark Tales”). And now that I’ve learned how to pre-schedule posts, I can display the vignettes here for the blog-inclined to see, too!

So, without further delay, here’s my word-saving civic duty of the day.

The theme: Lamp Shades.

The word: “Boot”, a noun meaning “advantage”.

The Example:

The ache in his head pulled Allyn awake. He moaned, then hissed sharply as his eyes opened to a light that intensified the pain twofold. One eye closed against the glare, the other squinted and roved side to side to take in his environment. Stone walls around him. Rich sheets of red and gold beneath him. Will Scarlet’s bedchamber. He moaned again. “What the dale happened last night?”

Allyn’s intended venom-filled glower cut short with another hiss and an arm thrown over his face. “Do something about that blasted light, or you will have killed me.”

“Sorry. Here.” The darkness beyond Allyn’s covered vision deepened. “Your hat will do as a lamp shade, for now, provided it doesn’t catch fire. Sorry about your head, too. I should have known better than to let things go so far; anyone could have guessed I’d have the boot in a drinking game against a featherweight like you. Next time we’ll try for a game you’ve got a shot at win—”

“No more shots!” Allyn wailed.

“Right… bad choice of words. Let me run down to the Glade and see what mystical herby things the Fey Folk have got for hangovers.”

2) Pick an old word you want to save from extinction to feature in the post. (If you find yourself in want of options, Feather ‘n’ Rose recommended a site that may have some word-lovers drooling. Luciferous Logolepsy. Even its name is old and delicious!)

3) Provide a definition of your word, and use it in a sentence/short paragraph/mini story vaguely related to the particular week’s chosen theme.

4) Sign up properly on the host post’s linky list so participants can easily find each other and share their logophilistic joy.

5) Be a hero by sharing these retro words with the world!

Since it’s quicker than blogging it, I’ve been participating in the weekly fun via my “Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale” Facebook page, giving myself the extra challenge/fun of relating every word I pick to my re-imagining of the Robin Hood legend (a.k.a. the magnum opus to be self-published after the completion of “The Wilderhark Tales”). For those who haven’t kept up to date on the “Ballad” page, here’s all the word-saving fun you’ve been missing since June!

* * *

June 1/13 – The theme: Tea – The word: “Autological”, an adjective meaning, “self-descriptive, or being a word that exemplifies what it means (e.g. “English” is English, “polysyllabic” is polysyllabic)”.

The Example:

“I say, Robin,” Will Scarlet said of a sudden, scarcely before he’d finished his swallow from a mug of Avalon ale. “You know what’s weird? Here we are, Englishmen so English we’re a part of its cultural heritage – people visiting our statues and supposed gravesites and all – and yet we never drink tea!”

Over the top of his own tankard, Robin’s brows quirked in question at his cousin. “And that’s weird because…?”

“But practically. You and I are a disgrace to our country, do you know that?”

Robin rolled eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, you’re welcome to pour yourself a cuppa if you want. Shall I protect what’s left of your honor by disposing of your ale?”

“Now, now,” said Will, drawing his mug protectively nearer to himself. “I never said I minded being a disgrace. All part of being an outlaw, eh wot?”

“That’s the English spirit,” said Robin, raising his tankard in laughing salute.

* * *

June 8/13 – The theme: Hourglasses – The word: “Cumber”, a noun meaning “a hindrance or burden”. (Fun bonus: This was a “word of the day” at the Bristol Renaissance Faire, last year!)

The Example:

If there was one thing Gant-o’-the-Lute missed from before his professional minstrel days, it was the freedom to ignore time completely. With no responsibilities worth caring about, he could live at his leisure, without the cumber of matching his rhythm to the trickle of sand in hourglasses or ticks of mechanical clocks. Even still, though mindful of time he must now by necessity be, he was no slave to it. His only mistress was music.

* * *

June 15/13 – The theme: Travel – The word: “Amain”, an adverb meaning “with full force; at full speed; hastily; at once”. (Likewise a BRF word of the day!)

The Example:

Will Scarlet looked with longing as the herd of patrons poured out the main gates, their day of Faire-going fun at an end. He’d be dashing out with them amain, if he thought he could get away with it, Avalon at his back and the whole Outside world before him to roam as he pleased.

“Do you miss it?” he asked Allyn, beside him. “Being a traveling minstrel, instead of a minstrel stuck in the same place all the time?”

The Example: “All right, think,” Will Scarlet mutters. “We managed to get around that ‘scorpions’ theme, even though we’ve no truck with those. Surely we can do the same with porch swings, never mind Avalon’s utter lack of porches and swings…”

“We could always rig a bench up to a tree limb with rope,” Allyn suggests. “That would be rather like a porch swing, would it not?”

Ever since joining the cast of the Bristol Renaissance Faire, I automatically associate the acronym “BBF” with the Bristol Buskin Frolic players who sing and dance around the maypole. But that’s not the BBF I’m blogging about today. Right now, we’re talking about the Blogger Book Fair!

What’s that, you ask? Well, to cobble together a paraphrased explanation from the event’s head organizer, Kayla Curry:

The Blogger Book Fair started the summer of 2012 with 40 authors and 75 books. It has grown quickly as a biannual event, much like a blog hop, in which authors and book bloggers can get together and showcase authors and their books. Participating blogs will have giveaways, discounts, and other events you can’t find anywhere else – among them, the Blogger Book Fair Reader’s Choice Awards.

The fair runs from July 22nd through 26th. And guess what? “The Swan Prince (Book One of The Wilderhark Tales)” and I have signed up to participate! (Okay, I did all the signing up. The book just sat there looking pretty.) This means I’ll be hosting 4 other authors here at Ever On Word on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday of the BBF week, and they’ll be hosting me. It also means I’ve been entered into the Reader’s Choice Awards competition. *hysterical giggles, wonky breathing, sweating, etc.* So, guys: Read my book? Liked it? Like me the least little bit? Then pretty please— nay, drop dead gorgeous please, vote for me when the polls open. If I win, I’ll get a snazzy button of victory for my blog AND will have “The Swan Prince” featured on the Blogger Book Fair site for a minimum of one year with a link to buy it on Amazon. THAT is a way-cool prize, and we wantsss it, Preciousss.

And speaking of things to be won, during the BBF week, I’ll be hosting another giveaway! Nothing as all-out massive as last month’s Seven Swans a-Winning extravaganza, but there will be another signed paperback copy of “The Swan Prince” up for grabs, along with a set of gorgeous Yana Naumova-drawn “Swan Prince” bookmarks, a-a-and a set of never-before-distributed bookmarks for the upcoming second Wilderhark Tale, “The Stone Kingdom”! Further details to come.

Yup, here’s the BFF *I* know.

So, yup! Exciting stuff coming, three weeks from now. Hope to see you guys hopping merrily along with me! …which, come to think of it, sounds like a very Bristol Buskin Frolicsome thing to do. Throw on some jingly bells and flowery garlands, and I doubt anyone would know the difference. X)

IN OTHER NEWS: While I was out doing Bristol-related things this past weekend, my leading lady from “The Swan Prince” was sitting down for a character-to-character chat in the first ever Interview Saturday at the Flame Writer blog of Kendra Conine. Check it out to see what secrets (if any) Kendra’s character Ashley was able to coax out of Sula. 😉

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Me. Hello!

To the lovers of language...
To the ravenous readers...
To those who talk like a thesaurus, not to show off, but simply because they like it and they can...
To you I say, Ever On Word!
~ Danielle E. Shipley
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The “Inspired” Novels

Get ready for a meeting of the muses...

The Ballad of Allyn-a-Dale (Outlaws of Avalon 1)

Welcome to Avalon, a Renaissance Faire where heroes of legend never die...

The Marriage of Allyn-a-Dale (Outlaws of Avalon 2)

A minstrel with a forbidden romance, in need of a little outlaw intervention...

The Legend of Allyn-a-Dale (Outlaws of Avalon 3)

Sherwood's outlaws live on in the future ... but will they survive a return to their past?